#i just feel like a lot of how din acts is very practical. very measured. very careful | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sithsecrets · 4 years ago

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one and lonely | din djarin x reader

you and mando visit one of his old friends at a corellian strip club, and doubt begins to set in. in return, mando gives you something no one’s ever had: his name.

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2.8k words

mentions: implied/referenced piv sex, fem!reader, strippers, strip clubs, original female character, mild jealousy, mild hurt/comfort, mild smut, fluffy at the end

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In hindsight, you have no idea why you agreed to do this. It probably has a lot to do with the words Mando used, how he asked you and when he asked you.

“I know someone who can watch the baby,” he had said, murmuring in your ear under the cover of darkness. “I need you to come with me. Will you?”

Need— that one little word is what made you say yes, heart jumping in your throat the second you heard it. And what a sound it was, dripping from Mando’s tongue raw, the static of the modulator not touching a single bit of the word. It’s like he knew you couldn’t say no to him then, not when he was naked and laid out beside you in the pitch-black hull, helmet off— no creed to abide by, no business to attend to, just him. Then he’s talking about needing your help, insinuating that he wants you to assist him bring in bringing in this bounty, and well… It hit all the right spots inside you, the raw ones that need gentle handling, and you said yes without second’s hesitation.

Since it all began, what you and Mando do together in the dark has felt vaguely unreal, the sex and the talking and the vulnerability of it all so foreign and ridiculous in the light of day. But you this right here, this strip club on Corellia? It’s realer than real, your senses overloaded by the sights and sounds, by the smells and textures. Your first instinct is to turn right back around, but Mando’s got you by the arm, gently leading you through the room.

“Find a table near the stage,” he tells you, speaking in your ear to be heard over the thudding, fast music. “I have to meet someone. Send me a comm immediately if you see the quarry, alright?”

All you can do is nod, distraught as Mando abandons you near the front of the club. You watch him walk away, colorful lights bouncing off the beskar as he goes, and then you do as you’re told, taking a seat at a table as far away from other patrons as possible.

Alone and completely out of your element, you have no idea how to act. You suppose you should try to blend in, but you feel shy watching the show. The women are half-naked and unbelievably beautiful, practically levitating as they perform onstage. You have no idea how they’re doing half of what they’re doing on their poles, and you envy their sex appeal, their confidence. You’d sooner die than give one of these patrons the time of day, but to watch them fawn over the dancers and give them money does make you feel just the slightest bit less-than. You could never be so bold as to work a job like this one, and the attention, well… Nobody’s ever going to look at you like that, not even the most desperate man, and you’re sure as hell never going to have anyone throwing credit after credit your way like it’s their honor to do so.

“It’s okay if you want to look, honey. Nobody’s going to judge you, not in here.”

The sound of a voice above you has you jolting in your seat, your train of thought crashing and then disappearing like it never existed in the first place. You look up to see who’s addressing you, only to find that it’s not a someone at all, but a goddess. Never in your whole life have you been this close to someone so gorgeous, and you finally understand what it means to be struck speechless by a person’s beauty.

The woman seems to sense what you’re feeling, and a small, almost satisfied smile creeps over her perfectly painted mouth. She leans down, her curtain of thick, silky red hair swinging, and you catch the scent of something spicy all around her. Perfume, you think, but not the cheap kind. “Are you here all by yourself, baby?”

Something in your brain sputters back to life, and you’re able to speak again.

“No,” you blurt, “I— I’m here with my friend. He has to talk to someone.”

The second the words leave your mouth, you feel like you’ve said too much, done too much— your gaze went straight to Mando when you started talking about him, and the redheaded goddess is looking dead at him now. And that’s just what he needs, more attention than he’s already getting with all that beskar on his body. Mando always puts a premium on secrecy, especially during his hunts, yet here you are spouting off all his business to someone you just met. Fucking unbelievable.

“The Mandalorian is your friend?”

You couldn’t lie to this woman, not even if you wanted to, and so you find yourself nodding before you can think about what you’re doing. She looks back at him one last time, the jewels on her skimpy costume flashing, and then you’re the object of her full attention once more.

“Loosen up, honey,” she says to you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face with a soft, manicured hand. “I’ll send you a drink on me.”

The goes the way she came, disappearing more than she walks away. A few minutes later, a waitress does come by with a drink for you, but you still don’t have the nerve to turn your gaze towards the dancers. No, instead you keep your eyes essentially glued to the floor, only peeking up now and then to glance at Mando. He’s still at the bar every time you look, stock still and unbothered, almost like a statue someone affixed to the stool he’s seated on.

About the fourth time you do this, you’re startled to find that Mando’s no longer alone, accompanied now by the very same redhead that bought you a drink. She’s just as stunning at distance, perched on the stool like it was made for her, hair shining under the lights. The shape of her body had been lost on you before, but it would seem that that, too, is utter perfection. Jealousy flashes up inside you when Mando leans in close, giving her his full attention as she talks. Whatever’s being said must be important, the set of her face serious as she listens to him in turn. Eventually, the conversation wraps up, and then Mando’s coming to collect you from your table. The two of you leave together, and you’ve never been more relieved to get back to the Crest.

Though your little jaunt into Corellia’s night life was anything but, the rest of your evening is routine. You and Din collect the Child from his friend, you make dinner when you get back to the ship, and when the baby falls asleep, Mando cuts the lights and fucks you for the better part of an hour. You’re left sated and sleepy by the end of it all, already dozing off as Mando cleans his cum off your stomach with a rag.

Mando had you in his arms when you finally went out for good, but you wake up cold and alone, blinking sleep out of your eyes in the dimness of the hull. You pull on a new pair of underwear and a loose shirt, stumbling back towards the armory after a quick check on the baby. He’s still sound asleep, but you know Mando’s up and about if the noise in the back is anything to go by.

Sure enough, you find him cleaning his blaster, perched on a crate with some supplies laid out nearby.

“Hey,” is all Mando says to you, barely looking up from his work. You feel it still, though, the way he reaches out to pinch the back of your thigh as you walk to the pantry, and that makes something warm bloom in your chest.

It’s quiet for a while, just you munching on your snack as Mando works on his weapons. There’s a clink here and there, a crinkle of the bag in your hands, but neither one of you speaks at all. As you sit there and watch Mando clean and count and calibrate, you can’t help but think back on all that’s happened today, on the club and that woman who spoke to both of you. The smell of her perfume is still vivid in your mind.

The smell of her perfume, and the way Mando sat so close to her.

“That woman you met with tonight was nice,” you say slowly, trying to fish for information without being too obvious. You’d like to know if Mando knew her before tonight, and how he came to discover that club at all. There’s so much of his life that predates you, so much of his history that you’ll likely never know, and it’s times like these when that fact comes into sharp focus.

Mando doesn’t even raise his head. “She liked you.”

That makes you flush. “We didn’t even talk for five minutes.”

“She liked you anyway.” Finally, you earn yourself a glance. “Sypha’s just like that.”

Sypha. Even her name is sexy.

“You know her?”

“She’s a friend,” Mando affirms, shrugging. “A lot of people pass through her place. She’s always good for information when I need it.”

You nod, trying to stay causal. “How did you two meet?”

“We know some of the same people. I cut her in a bounty, Maker, what, five years ago maybe? Anyway, I’ve kept in touch ever since. Like I said, she sees a lot of faces.”

That genuinely makes a lot of sense, but you know that Mando doesn’t consider just anybody a friend.

“Have you had sex with her?”

It’s risky question, and you’ve really got no right to ask it. But since you and Mando started hooking up, you’ve always wondered what he’s comparing you to in his head, always wanted to know how you measure up to the women he’s had in the past. Call it jealousy, call it insecurity, hell, call it self-absorption— in any case, you just want to know. You have to know.

Mando’s hands go completely still, abandoning his work in his lap as he raises his head to look at you. You feel small and helpless before him, and you wonder if he knows that he had your dignity, your ego, and, most importantly, your heart clenched between his teeth. Just the slightest bit of pressure, one puncture from a sharp, dismissive word, and he could destroy all three.

“Yeah,” he finally says, “a few times. But that was back in the day.”

A few times stings, but he’s not exactly telling you to fuck off and mind your own business. You know you should quit while you’re ahead, but you feel like a woman possessed, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Did you want to hook up with her tonight?” You take a breath, think about how that might have sounded. “I mean— If I wasn’t there, if I hadn’t been waiting for you, would you have gone in the back with her?”

You know he knows what you’re talking about, Mando’s not stupid. He saw how some of the dancers would lead patrons back behind a curtain and off into another part of the club, he saw it because you saw it, and Mando doesn’t miss a thing.

The blaster and his tools now fully abandoned, you know Mando’s appraising you, his gaze intense even behind the helmet. An apology sits poised right on the tip of your tongue the instant you’re done speaking, because who the fuck do you think you are? Mando’s girlfriend or something? And even if you were, even if he did call you his and show you off like that, he’s a grown man. He has a past, and he has a right to have a past, regardless of what it involves. Just because you’ve had sex with a grand total of two people in your entire lifetime doesn’t justify you being upset at the fact that Mando’s known more than one woman before you, whether he paid to know them or not.

“Sypha never took me in the back, not even back then.” Mando doesn’t sound upset, but the tone of his voice has certainly changed. “And no, mesh’la, I didn’t want to fuck her tonight, and she didn’t want me either. All that’s long gone between us. And even if she did ask, I wouldn’t have accepted. I wouldn’t make a fool of you like that.”

You must look as confused as you feel because Mando shifts on his crate, tilting his head your way. “Cyare,” he says, disbelieving, “do you really think I’d do that? Fuck some other woman while you’re here waiting for me to come back?”

It feels like somebody picked your brain up and shook it, all the thing you could say jumbling up in your head. “Well, we never… You never… I don’t know what I thought, Mando. I’m sorry.”

He sighs, deep and tired, but you don’t think it’s directed at you. “No,” he says, “I’m sorry. I don’t— I’m not good at this, and I know that. I’m not good at talking, especially when it’s about you, or what we do when the baby’s asleep, or how I feel. Just… Just know that when I meet with someone, whether you’re there or not, it’s all business. You’re the only one, alright?”

Once again, you have absolutely no idea what to say. You’re not sure you could talk around the lump in your throat anyway, even if you did have the words to express how you feel. Tears burn the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to cry, deciding that that would be entirely too dramatic.

“I know the fact that I’ve been with other people worries you—”

“It’s doesn’t,” you cut, lying through your teeth. You’d sooner die than have Mando think that you judge him for his past.

“It worries you,” he presses, “but it shouldn’t. You have something that none of them have ever had, something they’ll never get to have, period.”

Your heart leaps in your throat, thoughts racing. “What’s that?”

“My name.”

“But everyone calls you Mando. When—”

“No,” he says, speaking over you, “my actual name. The name my parents gave me.”

You think for a moment there that you’re still sleeping, that you never woke up from your little post-sex slumber and that this is all a dream. But no, Mando really is beckoning you over, gloved hands reaching out to grab hold of your waist as you lean in close. The two of you are alone on the ship, save for your sleeping baby, but even so, the whole thing is secretive, hush hush like a ritual. And you think that’s a fitting way to treat this, a fitting way to behave as Mando reveals one of his most closely guarded personal details.

“Close your eyes,” Mando commands, speaking softly, and your heart stops as you think of the lights— one false move, one flutter of an eyelid, and you’ll see it all. You’ll see him.

“Mando—”

“Close your eyes, mesh’la,” he repeats. “I trust you.”

Those last three words alone are enough to put your body on autopilot, and so you do as you’re told, eyes slipping closed. The sound of Mando removing his helmet is unmistakable, the beskar landing with a thunk beside him. Your stomach flutters when you feel his breath on your ear, the warmth of it so familiar and yet so foreign all at the same time.

“My name is Din,” he whispers, voice softer than you ever thought it could be. “Din Djarin. You can’t call me that in front of other people, but here when we’re alone, when we’re with the Child, you can say it all you want.”

“Din,” you say, experimenting with the name, trying it out on your tongue. A hand trails up and down, up and down, up and down the inside of your thigh, and so you sigh it again. “Din.”

“I like how you say my name,” Din tells you, and it takes all you have to keep your eyes clamped shut. “But I’m sure I’ll like how you moan it that much more. Go lie down, I’ll be there in a minute.”

You don’t have to be told twice.

#my writing #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you

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joonkorre · 3 years ago

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(love) is a heartache

@drarrymicrofic prompt: hope is a heartache - léon

let it be known that harry goes through life purely on vibes. half of his reasons why for every decision at his big age are “idk imma just hope for the best”

ao3

People’s hearts twinge sometimes. For Draco, he can barely remember the last time he doesn’t have these twinges. It’s pretty normal at this point.

“No, it’s not,” Pansy says. She’s a Healer, so she’s probably right. But Draco prefers to ignore that.

“Leave it be,” Draco murmurs, lips against her scalp, “I’m fine. Say, are you free tomorrow?”

“Yeah. You want to go somewhere?”

“Mm. Sleep.”

They go out the next morning, Pansy in thick makeup and Draco practically drunk under nine layers of Charms. The air is a bit humid, which seems to get worse when the bustling street intensifies in volume into a roaring din. Pansy pulls him under an awning, yanking at his sleeve a bit to try out her disgusting sugary coffee. She always does this whenever she wants to take his attention away from something, which means he just has to look at exactly where she’s doesn’t want him to. As his lips wrap around her lipstick-stained straw, he glances up.

Across the street, a couple strolls through a gushing crowd. Fiery red hair, airy laughter, a pale arm wrapped around her fiancé’s waist. Curls of black, sleek spectacles, a protective palm on his fiancee’s shoulder. They make the perfect picture, a vibrant oil painting. Their existence is formed from bold strokes of sunlight and starburst kisses, with the focal point being a shock of phthalo green and cadmium lemon, two minute specks that make all the difference. As all good paintings do, they pin the viewer on the spot, as if the viewer himself is a thing to behold. Then they shift away.

The exhibit moves forward and out of sight. It’s closing time, the viewer has overstayed his welcome.

Something leaps in Draco’s chest and splatters on the floor of his stomach. Placing her hand over his heart, Pansy frowns at him. She doesn’t ask why Potter stared at someone who looked like a stranger to him. Only tells him to start finding answers.

Months later, on the most awaited day in recent Wizarding history, there’s a knock on Draco’s door.

He throws on a sweater, and a throw, too, for good measure. Ambling to the door, he checks the mail slot before peeking through the peephole. Nobody but a package is outside. Draco hums and unlocks his door, crouching down the moment it opens. What feels like soft satin brushes against his cheek, cool and smooth. With a flash, a pair of shiny dress shoes appear before him.

“Draco.”

Draco peers up as he rises, hands around the package. Potter has his maddening Invisibility Cloak slung over his arm, his roguish charm heightened by a perfectly fitted three-piece suit. A tiny posy is pinned on his left lapel, muted green hellebores with a few sprigs of privet berries. He’s dressed like a man in love.

Draco feels something he hasn’t felt in months at the sight. He’s trained himself to suppress it the moment it showed itself and has been relatively successful until now. The sting, without warning, bursts from within his chest, calling forth a slight wince. Potter’s brows furrow.

"How do you know where I live?"

“How long has this been going on?”

Draco frowns. “Pardon?”

“That,” Potter gestures at Draco’s chest. “The heartache.”

He rears back. What the hell is he supposed to say to that? At Potter’s unchanging expression, Draco shoves his hair out of his face with a quiet huff and puts a hand on the doorknob.

“It’s none of your business. Please leave.”

“It is, actually,” Potter stops the closing door with one arm.

“Excuse me? We haven't had a proper conversation in more than a decade and suddenly you want to act like we're friends? Leave, now.”

“Listen to me. How can it not be my business when I feel it, too?”

“Check with a Healer, then. If you can put past grudges aside, I can hand you Pansy Parkinson’s business card,” Draco grits through his teeth, pushing against the door with his entire body, his throw slipping to the ground.

“Draco, stop, I already know, stop.”

“Know what? No, I don't care. Leave at once, else I’d alert the Aurors.”

A rough slam sends Draco staggering back. Potter pants, hard lines on his face. His chest heaves under his crisp white shirt, its top two buttons unclasped, and he steps over the threshold, closing the door.

“You think they’d believe you?”

The pain shoots from his chest to the rest of his body, and for several seconds, his lungs wouldn’t work. He whips his head away from Potter, who groans and sags against the wall.

“I told you to leave.”

“I’m sorry, that was a shitty thing to say,” Potter says immediately, sweat dotting his temples.

After an uncomfortable pause, clearing his throat, he picks up the near-forgotten package from the carpet. His hand feels around the outline of the object within, rectangular and heavy. Glancing at Draco, he says hoarsely. “I know why you bought this book.”

“Know this, know that, you know nothing,” Draco lunges forward, only for Potter to twist out of the way and raise the package out of his reach.

“The Life-long Burden of Dark Curses: A Caution by Elise Arrowlane, limited edition,” he says, unbothered by Draco’s slackened jaw. “You ordered it from the new bookstore on Diagon months ago. You were small and old and grey, but I recognized you. I always could.”

“Okay,” Draco sneers, “so you’re a stalker. Old news. Anything else?”

“There’s no need to order one. I would’ve borrowed it from Hermione if you had only asked,” Potter says. “Instead, I got curious and read it for myself. That’s how I connected the dots about the heartache, how I realized we’ve both had it since that day years ago.”

“Oh, the day you slashed me into ribbons and almost cut through my heart?” Draco clenches his jaw.

Being able to shout this ugly kind of truth into the perpetrator’s face feels oddly liberating. That is, if liberation also comes with a specific kind of agony that makes Draco want to fall to his knees.

“Dark Magic leaves a mark on both the wizard and their victim, doesn’t it? No need for a book to tell us that,” Potter says, the harsh afternoon glow of him gentled by the soft lamplight in Draco’s hallway. “In certain cases, it even leaves a link. A connection.”

Draco bites the inside of his cheek and looks away. The only consequence from that horrid night was his fucked up heart and nothing else, nothing at all. Whatever Potter is insinuating, he hates it. He hates this. He hates him.

“How are you so sure there’s a connection.”

“I wasn’t,” Potter says. “The Healers said it’s a health thing I developed after the War and I just needed to avoid strenuous activity. I didn’t think much of it, but then I read the book and realized that it usually flared up whenever you watched me.”

Scoffing, Draco turns and stalks into the kitchen. Walking past the boiling kettle, he throws a cabinet door open and grabs a mug, his hand trembling.

“Interesting how my health suffers when I see the bastard who quite literally carved me open.”

“I was eating dinner when I thought I was going to die of a heart attack at 23,” Potter continues. Draco pulls the drawers out, unable to find a single bag of tea for several excruciating moments. “The next day, I was reading about your mother’s death on the Daily Prophet. That was the first sign.”

Grabbing a rag and wetting it, Draco wipes the countertop even as he’s just done so last night.

“When Ginny saw you on the street during our date and extended her hand toward you, you shook it. But your heart ached.

“I saw you looking at the picture of Ginny and I kissing on the front page of Witch Weekly. Your hair was brown and your back was curved, but I saw you. Your heart ached.

“When I announced my engagement to her on the Battle of Hogwarts’s 10th Anniversary, you were clapping along with everyone else. But your heart ached.”

Draco throws the rag on the counter. The kettle whistles, a piercing sound. “What’s your point? Are you here purely to flaunt your relationship and imply that I’m in love with Ginevra Weasley? If so, I got it. Thank you so very much, it’s been enlightening. Now get out.”

“The point is,” Potter says, lifting the kettle off the burner to pour it into Draco’s mug, placing his tea bag in, “unless the article about you being gay was wrong, Ginny isn’t the one you’re in love with.”

“What arti—” Draco stops. “That was years ago.”

His sexuality was leaked to some irrelevant gossip rag, not even making the front page. Nobody noticed, nothing changed, and it hasn’t entered his mind in what feels like forever until Potter reminds him.

“I remember.”

“You—” Draco frowns. His eyes strain on the cup of tea until they hurt. He squeezes them shut, sighing. “It doesn’t prove anything. Perhaps I’m jealous of my childhood nemesis having a better life than me, ever thought of that?”

“Yeah,” Potter says, “I’ve thought about this a lot. Which is why I’m here. To make sure.”

Draco takes it in, then, unable to help himself, curls his lips at Potter and his attire. At his artfully gelled hair, his hanging bow tie, the elegant boutonniere on the lapel of his dark blue suit. His empty ring finger.

“Couldn’t you have chosen a better date to make sure? Preferably before your wedding day?”

Potter steps closer. A respectable distance away, but closer.

“I could’ve, but I spent most of those days in denial. Then the dots connected and I couldn’t deny it anymore, so I decided to just go through with the wedding regardless, be with the woman I loved. Hoped that maybe the odd emotions I had would go away,” he shrugs, raising his eyes to meet Draco’s. “Saw Ginny at the end of the aisle and, well, I couldn’t stop thinking that it should’ve been someone else. All this time, I’ve thought that she didn’t feel… right in my arms, but I pushed it down. And there she was in that white dress.

“Seeing that today was the last straw. I had to leave.”

Draco’s breath catches in his throat. Swallowing it down, he grabs his mug, scooping out the tea bag just to have something to do. He takes a sip without blowing, ignoring its scalding heat.

“That was stupid.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Draco can feel a headache building. “That was a horrible decision. I never imagined you—you!—out of all people, could be this irresponsible. What the fuck.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am. Merlin, that poor fucking woman. If your purpose here is to make me feel bad for Ginevra and all 300 of her relatives for once in my life, you’ve succeeded, congratulations.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that to me, say that to—oh, you’d do what you want no matter what I say, wouldn’t you?”

“Depends on the situation.”

“‘Depends on the situation,’ he says,” Draco mocks, getting a carton of milk from the fridge to save his bitter, bitter tea. Potter doesn’t reply. Stirring the milk in, Draco lets out a heavy sigh.

“What do you want me to do about this?” He says. “I didn’t make you run out of your own wedding. If you expect me to take the blame for your inane decisions, the first person I Floo wouldn’t be the Aurors, but Ginevra Weasley herself.”

A small smile graces Potter’s lips. “I don’t expect anything from you but honesty.”

Draco squints.

“And how will you know if what I say is a lie? Will you reject my genuine answer if it’s not what you want to hear?”

“That won’t be a problem,” Potter says. “I trust your heart will speak the truth for us both.”

There’s a pang in Draco’s chest, and judging from the twitch of Potter’s brow, he can feel it too. Not another word is said, the two men merely facing each other from across a tiny kitchen, considering. Draco can feel the warmth of sunlight beaming through the little window and coating his nape as he leans against the sink, earl grey on his tongue. Lovely citric notes of bergamot drift up his nose. He closes his eyes. What to do, what to do.

Weightless oxfords clack against the yellowed tiles, clear and bright in Draco’s ears. Fabric rustles as Potter slips a hand into his pocket only to retrieve it a second later. Draco lets himself be cornered, barely glancing at the wool-clad arms caging either side of his waist. A clink catches his attention, however, and he tilts his head to the left.

Millimeters beside Draco’s hand on the counter, glinting in the sun, is a wedding band. Draco knows Potter and Ginevra’s in and out, has examined the picture on that day’s issue of the Daily Prophet more times than he should have. He knows the marquise droplets of Ginevra’s gems and the chevron curve of her ring, the blankness of Potter’s own band a dream and a question in his mind.

The band that’s resting on the counter is different. Rustic gold and a fissure in the middle, the fertile earth splitting open to reveal a stream of diamonds, a sparkling river. Draco sets his mug to the side and holds the ring up close, his finger smoothing over the grooves of its texture.

“Did you make a stop at a jewelry store before breaking into my home?” He asks.

“No,” Harry murmurs. Draco looks at him in surprise. “I’ve had this with me for months.”

A pause.

“I thought you said you were in denial.”

“I was, but I knew, somewhat, that I wanted someone else,” Harry’s head lowers, slow and careful, until his forehead rests against Draco’s shoulder. “I told myself that I just liked the way it looked, had to get it in case I didn’t want the other ring anymore. But I got it a size smaller. Been carrying it in my pocket ever since.”

Draco’s heart throbs and throbs. Large hands circle his waist, bunching up the back of his sweater and pressing him close, chest to chest. A blanket of pure heat envelops his body as he breathes in the timeless saffron and neroli of cologne, half-lidded eyes pinned on the band he’s given. Oh, dear, he thinks, and again when it settles at the base of his ring finger with ease, as if it belongs there and never left. Oh, dear.

#drarrymicrofic #drarry #drarry fanfiction #drarry fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #yeah erm harry isn't the brightest bean in the pod or whatever that saying goes #they'll work it out i promise #draco's idea of a first date would be dragging harry over to the weasleys and forcing him to give ginny a formal apology #like ok he doesn't care about her at all but having this woman's unhappiness on his conscience is unbearable #also i really like the idea of the sectumsempra fucking up draco's bodily functions #the scars are really cool but i especially like it when the consequences are idk more visceral and clearly lower draco's quality of life #im not gonna get into the whole connection thing bc idk either #just know that whenever draco feels something intensely #like grief fear jealousy and ooooh heartbreak #his heart throbs and harry also feels it #in this fic harry's secretly happy that despite the whole shitty heart thing there's an unbreakable connection between the two #he needs some work in this fic but he means well i assure yall #draco seeing harry canoodling w ginny and feeling his heart hurt: that was weird haha #joonkorre writes

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jannepaule · 5 years ago

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Practical Magic

I first learned about Chinggay Labrador through Candy Magazine and Summit Books' Popped series back in college. Years later I stumbled upon @practical_magical on Instagram where she does tarot stuff and well— practical magic.

Since then I've been curious about what the cards have in store for me but hesitated to book a reading for some reason until last December, I finally did it. #Yay!

As the new decade begins and I turn twenty-five, I feel like a big chapter is opening up for me. I need new perspective on how to go about things and to allow paradigm shifts to happen (rough translation: what the heck am I gonna do with my life?) and so much fresh perspective is what I got.

At beginning of the session, Chinggay explained that everything is connected and from there our conversation became free-flowing and all the cards that came up shown relevance, one way or another.

We talked about career mostly but also goals and surprise, surprise the heart and internal shenanigans.

Internal Battles

I knew that a lot my problems are internal. Admitting this out loud and discussing it for the first time with someone who won’t judge me seems like the first step to address the problem. Since everything is internal, Chinggay said that I need to focus on the heart because it’s what needs balance right now. In every phase of our discussion, a card that represents the heart would come up.

8 of Cups – Just Walk Away: which meant letting go of emotional baggage that I probably don’t realize I still have up to this point (I thought I am done with this?!) and the feeling of comparing my life with others.

Ace of Cups – Let the Feelings Flow: Again, it’s the heart that needs help in terms of relationships and emotions. This is when she said something that I never considered but is actually true:

“sometimes, naghahanap din tayo ng problem. When everything’s okay, sometimes we like a little bit of drama in our life” And I felt that.

I also got the THE HIEROPHANT card which is the heart in the seven cards that represent my energies. The Hierophant is a teacher card and it is teaching me something right now. She said that my heart is restless because there are so many things inside that needs to be communicated, hence, The Chariot Card appeared which tells me to speak up.

"You can’t expect other people to read your mind, kailangan mong magsalita" , Chinggay said.

Getting a clarity on my heart’s situation made me realize where to start in navigating through my feelings and thoughts and that is from the inside.

Goals: l Pacing and Progress

Career Growth

Career has been the main topic of our discussion. The first card I got for career is the Queen of Pentacles: Earth Mama. Chinggay said that I need to be in a situation where I feel taken care of and if my job affords a certain level of stability, it should be the bare minimum. That is exactly where I am right now. I’m in a much better place compared to my previous job and I am thankful for that every day.

It is just that I am also starting to feel stuck and I wanted to know how to grow from here. I was told that it’s normal that my head is starting to question because I am hitting twenty-five, but not every thought needs to be acted on, as the Taming the Tiger: Do Not Let Your Fire Consume you card suggested, the card represents my mind.

The other cards relating to my career that came up where all pretty on point too.

Page of Pentacles: RESPONSIBLE OBSERVER. This card represents my past and it could mean that I got into the job because it’s the responsible thing to do. Maybe the initial purpose of it (whether it might be because it’s the right thing/adult thing/grown-up thing to do) must have been fulfilled that is why I am starting to feel that I need to move on somehow.

Knight of Wands: Fire Cracker. The Knight of Wands is very impulsive and a travelling card, always wanting to leap which says a lot about my current situation.

SPACE EXPLORATION: Respect the Space available for Growth. This card represents the body. It means that I may feel trapped/confined but where I am right now has so much space available space to grow.

A change of perspective is all I need. I realized how I’ve been so focus in making changes in my current role at work that I am forgetting that I could still grow in other areas of my life.

★ Practical Magic tip: Your tendency to want to do something different doesn’t have to be related to your job/work. If you feel that your energy is getting stale, find a way to channel it to other avenues. Hold on to where you are first and exercise growth and adventure in other area.

The World. I got The World card for my future. It’s the last one in the major cards and the culmination of everything. It means that I am ending certain milestones in my life and it really feels like that. She told me that I need to look forward in the wrapping up of this chapter.

She further explained that this is leading to something bigger than what I can see from where I am. "The world is literally in your hands and if you waited out, you'll see it’s worth" she said. All the growth I am looking for will lead me to this world. This future. And this isn’t just about career but all other aspects of my life as well which left me feeling hopeful and thrilled to say the least.

Driving

When we tackled goals, it’s weird that I didn’t mention losing weight and learning how to swim when these have been on my list in the past five years. Instead I told her about learning how to drive first, as if it has been on top of my head and it’s what my intuition is telling me all along. I almost want to give up on this goal but it’s funny how it connects my past, and how it could unlock so much possibilities in my current situation towards the future I am moving towards to: the world.

Although I got The Chariot card as one of the seven cards that represents my energies, the card has an actual car pictured on it. I also got the 8 of Wands: Getting in the Fast Lane for my intuition card, which means moving and picking up pace already. If I think more how everything is connected, these two cards are pointing towards the driving. I need to take that lessons already.

★ Practical Magic Tip: Instead of setting of a specific time, set monetary goal for the driving lessons. Set aside specific amount of money each month until I reach the amount I needed to enroll for the driving classes, even if it’s not yet this year. (this is because I told her that instead for paying for the lessons, I tend to spend the money to other stuff aka travels. This made more sense and it seem more achievable. Discipline though!)

This tip actually opens another perspective not just in achieving the driving thing but in other goals as well. I realized that another internal problem I have is that I tend to box myself and my goals in the 365 days that only leads to disappointment when I don’t reach them by the end of the year. I didn’t realize that this is one of the “self-limiting mindset” I have when I was answering the Braver Goals workbook last January. Another aha! moment for me; new and important take on how to set out my plans for the next years.

Saving up (for the House)

Saving up is a goal that has been on my list forever. Saving up for the house is something else, something bigger. I think I mentioned this because of the recent talks with my parents about our house. The cards I got honestly didn’t quite resonate with me at the moment but the gist of it is to not give up on the dream. It may not happen in the next few years, but I need to keep the house as the image in my head to keep striving.

Chinggay also explained that some of our goals are not just about the physical manifestation of what we want to achieve but it also means a lot symbolically. The driving could mean freedom from the discomfort of being stuck literally and figuratively. The house means stability and security and whether or not the house come to fruition, I would be able to find another way to find security and stability along the way—which made a lot of sense right?

As I learned through the reading, I thought that maybe learning how to swim also symbolizes being able to move around and being free, still related to removing myself from being stuck.

HOMEWORK

To wrap up the session, Chinggay gave me a “homework”. From the deck, I picked three cards for: what I need to do, what I need to stop doing, and what I am doing right.

THE TOWER represents unexpected changes. What I need to do is to be that change instead of waiting for an outside force to make it happen. Maybe this part is called homework because I am really thinking about what I need to become that change that I need.

8 OF WANDS: IN THE FAST LANE. Getting this card for what I need to stop doing conflicts with what my intuition is saying that I need to start moving fast. I think it surprised both me and Chinggay a little when this appeared, but she was able to explain it in a way that made so much sense.

My intuition is telling me that I need to pick up pace but my logic is always checking on how fast I am moving. I admitted to her that this is another internal problem I have: I tend to compare my speed with others and I don’t appreciate that I am actually moving.

What I need to stop doing is putting pressure on myself about how fast I go.

★ Practical Magic Tip: Stop measuring yourself in feet and in yards if your movement is really in inches. As long as you are doing things to get you moving, it’s fine.

THE EMPRESS. The Empress knows how to take care of herself, like the Queen of Pentacles that is all about self-care but she’s also very creative and restful. Your logic might be telling you that you are supposed to be hitting milestones already but the Empress moves through life in a relaxed manner. If that’s your pace, let it be your pace. This is what I am doing right. I think The Empress is spirit card.

Other Practical Magic tips (and tricks):

8 of Wands: In the Fast Lane – This card represents my intuition and Chinggay said that my relationship to my intuition is strong because I pay attention to the discomfort. It is telling me that something needs to change and I need to pick-up pace. This when she said:

“Baka kasi ang bagal ng mga nangyayari ngayon, na sobrang stable. Naghahanap ka ng something to make your heart feels like it’s beating again” And girl, this speaks to me on a different level.

7 of Swords – Watch Your Back. The card that represents my motivation is telling me to have fun but watch out for the feeling of passiveness which is the anxiety that is starting to creep me up right now. Ask yourself what makes you passionate, find that something that makes you excited. And your passion is not even about your purpose in life because purpose changes (five years ago, five years forward), she explained.

7 of Cups – Day Dream Believer. This one is for purpose in life and priority. It’s saying to keep dreaming, keep aspiring and adding goals to your list. Give yourself new dreams.

8 of Swords – Trapped but Not Really. This card represents my creativity center, another one of the cards that represent my energies. It means that you are not as stuck as you think as you are. You need to have more fun to remind yourself that there is so much room for growth. (still relating to my career and feeling being stuck, amirite?)

7 of Pentacles – PATIENCE. This card came up when we’re discussing the driving goal. It tells me to be patient and give myself time and maybe not just about the driving but with the other goals as well. It also says a lot about my struggle with pacing. I need to be patient with own progress and my own pace.

#NoFilter: ASK THE QUESTIONS, PREPARE YOURSELF FOR THE ANSWER. Repeating cards are like underlines that give emphasis to its message and I got this #NoFilter Card twice which I think also relates to the chariot card that is telling me to speak-up. All of this is just a way to get to know yourself better and the answers will help you in the next five years of your life when you enter your thirties she told me.

#NoFilter: MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS. This one came up when we’re talking about career and I think it should also fall under what I should stop doing. I tend to compare myself with others (or with just one particular person, tbh) that is why I am questioning my pace and progress.

The Death Card

Death card means that certain things need to die in order to make new things. Out of all the cards we pulled in this reading, this is the one that left the biggest question:

“what are you willing to give up? What are you willing to sacrifice? Think of the things you need to let go so you can explore new things”

It seems big and daunting at first, in terms of stability it’s impulsive shopping and eating out where all my money goes that derail my goals. As for my internal battles, these feelings and thoughts that are weighing me down and holding me back. There is so much of it that I need to let go to be honest and on top of everything, old bad habits need to die to.

Since the death card is in the middle of all the cards, it means that I am in the middle of change. I must remember that I am in the process of getting there: the world. I don’t need to experience everything right now.

The entire session has been quite enlightening. So much of the answers are inside of me and I know some them already but sometimes I just need another person to emphasize to me for it to make sense. More than what the cards says, Chinggay gave so much practical advices and did wonderful job in reading and explaining them for me. I am so grateful and glad that I took this chance.

Having someone else offer a fresh perspective on to go about m minus the prejudice on how to look at life is exactly what I needed and doing this now seemed like the right time. 💖

I know that I won’t be able to figure out everything all at once but at least I know where to start directing my energies to. There is so much more to learn but as what she told me, “you don’t need to know all the answers right now.”

I’m in the process of discovering myself, still a work in progress.

If you reached the end of this very long post, thank you. I hope you get something out of it, too. And if you are interested in practical magic readings, you can find her website here.

P.S. She used PM Starter Deck, Quiet Mystic, and #NoFilter deck for our session.

#tarot #practical magic #2020 #personal #tarot reading

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ranwing · 7 years ago

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Kadam Fic: Dramatic Theory (1/2)

Title: Dramatic Theory Series: A New Direction (was Season Four Remix) Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Carole Hudson-Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Noah Puckerman, Tina Cohen-Chang, Artie Abrams, Original Characters Rating: PG13 Genre(s): canon divergence. Parts: 1 /2

On AO3

Summary: As Kurt prepares to make his professional debut at the Garrison Shakespeare Festival, he finds that he has a lot more to learn than simple stagecraft.

Standing on stage with his fellow performers in the ensemble was a heady feeling as they bowed to the loud applause and cheers from the audience. Kurt couldn’t help from smiling broadly as he picked up on his father’s cheers over the clapping, which were particularly loud. Maybe a bit louder than absolutely necessary but he could be forgiven his excitement at seeing his son performing for the first time in something other than a school production.

Once the ensemble players had received their ovation, they stepped aside for the principle and lead actors. When Adam stepped onto the stage, he couldn’t help from adding his own applause to the loud ovation from the audience. And the entire cast was cheering when Lord and Lady Macbeth stepped onto the stage, accepting the regard from the audience.

The entire cast as a group bowed again and the curtain came down for the last time on this production of Macbeth.

Once they were shielded from the view of the audience, the cast collectively gave a long sigh of relief that it had gone so well. Kurt found himself in the midst of a group embrace as the actors gave one another supportive hugs and words of praise for such well done efforts. Adam managed to squirm his way through the crowd to Kurt and pulled him into his arms, grinning at Kurt’s effusive praise over his amazing performance.

“I’m so proud of you, love,” Adam said warmly, looking down on his younger lover. “You did so well.”

Kurt made a dismissive snort, shaking his head. “You were the amazing one,” he insisted, not outright rejecting Adam’s praise but keeping it in proportion to his actual accomplishment. “I still can’t believe what an incredible actor you are.”

Adam couldn’t help from blushing a bit at Kurt’s compliments. “Well, I can’t wait to see your performance this week. You are going to be fantastic.”

Kurt nodded, not brushing away Adam’s compliment. “I think I’m ready,” he stated with reasonable confidence. But when he considered the weeks of practice and the encouraging feedback he’d been receiving from Mr. Tillman, he amended, “I’m more than ready.”

Adam couldn’t help from smiling at Kurt’s confidence, which had blossomed as the festival season progressed. Kurt’s eagerness for his true debut was infectious and Adam couldn’t help from being excited for him.

The director, made a loud whistling noise to get the cast’s attention. Adam and Kurt looked over and once the din had quieted, he gave them all a broad smile.

“I know you all want to get things moving and clean up, so I just wanted to compliment everyone on a great job. This production was everything I could have hoped for. Everyone was fantastic and you all deserve a lot of credit for your hard work,” Me. Tillman praised.

“Now don’t forget that we have our final dress rehearsal for Much Ado tomorrow afternoon so don’t stay out drinking all night. I’m not going to take pity on anyone who shows up hung-over,” he warned playfully. “Everyone should be here by noon for our cast meeting before we do our final run through. But tonight go enjoy yourselves. You’ve all earned it.”

The actors applauded their director and then dispersed to get out of their costumes. The theater was too small for private dressing rooms for even the lead performers which helped foster a sense of unity with the cast. Kurt found his dressing table in the communal dressing room and began the process of transforming from a highland soldier back to a theater student/actor.

Their last performance of Macbeth had been, in Kurt’s humble opinion, their best yet. All of the leads were absolutely amazing and if he held any regrets, it was that he didn’t have the opportunity to see the production from the audience. Still, he had nothing to complain about since he found it absolutely thrilling to be in the thick of things.

Being in the ensemble had been a lot harder than he’d anticipated and while he might not have had any lines, he probably had more actual time on stage more than any characters other than Lord and Lady Macbeth. It had been a challenge to keep track of his marks and what he was expected to do in each scene without having any real cues to work from. He made a few mistakes during the first performances, though now he had everything firmly committed to memory and could perform as a seamless member of the cast.

It had been exhilarating to take the stage with such a talented group even if he wasn’t the person that the audience was coming to see. Unlike his experiences in high school, where the supporting players existed only to showcase the leads, the entire cast worked together as a team. He never felt that his contributions were not needed or appreciated and found himself supported and nurtured as he fulfilled his first role and prepared for his next.

In hindsight, he wasn’t ashamed to admit that Mr. Tillman had been very wise not to cast him in two speaking roles right off the bat. It had become clear to Kurt early on that he had a steep learning curve, and it became even more challenging when they began dress rehearsals for Much Ado during the day while performing Macbeth in the evenings. But he found himself capable of a lot more than he would have thought possible.

He easily recognized that having Macbeth as the first play staged for the festival worked very much to his advantage. While Kurt was extremely eager to have his moment in the spotlight, he wasn’t ashamed to admit that having his spending his first few weeks in a supportive role gave him the chance to get the feel of really being on stage in a professional production without quite as much pressure as he’d face with a speaking part. During the first few shows, it was enough to just remember where his marks were and what he was expected to be doing at a given moment.

Someone else in the cast didn’t have that advantage. Craig, one of the other new young actors in the company, had been cast as Fleance and while it wasn’t the biggest part in the show, he didn’t have the luxury of being able to learn in the background. The other young man had felt tremendous pressure in measuring up to the more seasoned cast.

Kurt hurried over to his friend and gave him a warm hug. “You did it!” he praised, patting Craig on the shoulder. “How does it feel to be a big star?”

Craig exhaled loudly, giving a shuddering sigh of relief. “I can’t believe it’s over,” he chuckled a bit breathlessly. “Whoo…Talk about being thrown into the deep end.”

“Well, you not only survived your first role, but you were incredible,” Kurt complimented sincerely. “They knew what they were doing casting you in that part.”

Craig gave him a thankful look. “I’m exhausted. And I’m not going to lie... being in the ensemble the next time around is going to be a piece of cake after this.”

“Oh, you think it’s so easy?” Kurt teased. “We’ll see how you like it next week when you’re totally lost because you forgot where you need to be standing in Act Two and people are tripping over you.”

“Boys, do I have to separate you?” Tracy teased, looking absolutely adorable in her serving wench costume. “I thought we newbies were going to stick together?”

Craig had the good manners to blush at her playful admonishment. Especially wise since the two of them had been dating since rehearsals began. Kurt chuckle, shaking his head in bemusement at the antics that he’d become quiet familiar with as he’d had a front row seat to the entertainment that was their blooming relationship.

“On that note, I’m going to change before my family thinks that I got kidnapped,” he proclaimed. “This kilt is making a bit of a draft.”

“Oh my God, you are wearing it properly, aren’t you?” Tracy teased.

“I’m sleeping with an Englishman. What do you expect?” Kurt answered primly, raising his chin proudly and walking away from their chuckles with a dramatic huff. Kurt gave his kilt a bit of a flutter so that they could see the flash of a bare buttock, his only concession to stage modesty being his thong.

He couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as he stripped off his Scottish costume for the final time. He carefully unwrapped the plaid kilt from around himself and laid it neatly on its hanger, his hand running over the soft woolen fabric a last time. His wig was placed carefully on its stand and he all but ripped the wig cap off his head to free his hair, scratching vigorously at his scalp. Zipping up the costume in its garment page felt like he was closing the door on something really significant in his life.

Sitting down at his chair, Kurt pulled out some wipes to get the stage makeup off before his pores could clog and smiled in amusement at the commotion going on about him. Other actors were busy getting out of costume and chattering excitedly about the show. The cast as a whole was buzzing with happiness about how well things had gone and looking forward to the next production.

The joyous excitement was infectious and Kurt felt himself grinning widely as he bid farewell to his first role and looked forward with anticipation for his next.

He would be forever grateful that his first experience in a professional production was with Matthew Tillman directing. Not only was he a very fine stage director, but he was more than willing to be a teacher to the less experienced performers in the cast. He never failed to answer questions and had shown Kurt a great deal of patience and support as he found his way.

He demanded a great deal from his cast and Kurt found himself rising to meet those expectations. Mistakes were firmly corrected, and Mr. Tillman could be sharp when things didn’t go right or he felt that he wasn’t getting their best effort. But good work was likewise praised. After years of having his supporting work with New Directions taken very much for granted, it was a novel and refreshing change.

While being in the ensemble ended up being a great test in its own right, in just a few days Kurt would have an even bigger challenge to face. Then the spotlight would be on him and he would be shouldering an even greater responsibility. It was a heady feeling and one that he now felt much more confident about being able to accomplish. The weeks of rehearsals and hours on this very stage had prepared him well. He was ready for this.

Gen arrived to pick up his costume and props and gave him a warm smile. “So you survived,” she chuckled as she took his garment bag.

Kurt nodded and sighed happily. “Seem to have,” he answered agreeably, pulling his shirt over his head. “No one threw rotten fruit so that’s a good sign.”

The costumer laughed brightly. “Well, I was watching from the back of the house and you looked right at home up there. Like you’ve been doing this forever.”

“If I didn’t stand out in any way negatively, then I accomplished what I wanted to,” Kurt said confidently.

“And you did seem to have your own cheering section,” she teased playfully. “They were kind of hard to miss.”

Kurt smiled fondly, blushing a bit. “My family and friends… they wanted to see the show even if I was in the background,” he explained. “They’re going to be here for the opening night of the next show too.”

“Well, going by how rehearsals have been going, you’re going to totally blow them away,” Gen remarked as she slung his garment bag over her shoulder. “But can you do me a favor? Ease up on the workouts until after the festival closes. I’ve had to let your jacket out in the shoulders twice already!”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing ruefully. His body was continuing to mature, with more defined muscle in his upper body. He was keeping up on his dance exercises so that he’d be in good shape when school started in the fall, and working in the theater provided plenty of physical activity to burn off what little fat he had left on him. The only problem was that it wasn’t kind to the wardrobe team that had to make constant adjustments to his costumes to accommodate his changing physique.

Gen just shook her head, giving him a mocking stare of disapproval. “Well, I suppose that’s what we get for designing costumes that are so form fitting, but you’re already sexy enough,” she insisted, wagging her finger playfully. “Well, I’ll let you finish cleaning up. I’m sure there are some people at the stage door waiting for you.”

Kurt pulled on his sneakers, hurrying to finish getting dressed. Ensemble performers generally weren’t sought for autographs, though he’d signed a few as he left the theater with Adam over the course of the season. And he surprised himself in finding that he wasn’t at all bothered by the lack of notice. He’d found the experience in this production such a valuable learning experience that he couldn’t find it in himself to be jealous of the featured performers. His time would be coming soon enough.

Adam was waiting for him, his skin rosy from washing off his stage makeup. “There you are,” he proclaimed, motioning for Kurt to hurry over. “I was wondering what was keeping you.”

“Just talking to Gen,” Kurt explained. “Getting a few words of encouragement. And complaints about the constant alterations.”

Adam’s eyes twinkled merrily at Kurt’s woes. “What a terrible thing… to need your costumes adjusted because you’re just getting so fit.” He gave his lover a mocking glare of rebuke. “You should stop that, before you drive all of us to distraction.”

“Well, I need to make sure that I stay fit if I’m going to look right on your arm. You give me a lot to live up to,” Kurt quipped. “But that doesn’t stop my costumer from getting irritated.”

Adam chuckled, slinging an arm about Kurt’s shoulders and pulling him close. “Well, let’s head out and meet everyone.”

Kurt nodded and fell into step alongside his boyfriend. Outside the stage door there was a sizable crowd, a bit bigger than the usual gathering of a few dozen festival attendees looking to have their programs signed. It might not be the kind of turn out one would see at a Broadway theater, but Kurt valued their enthusiasm. Live theater was something special and it was more than gratifying to see so many people with an appreciation for theater and who looked forward to attending.

While he greatly looked forward to appearing on Broadway someday, Kurt knew that he would never disregard the value of local productions like this. It had been hard work and the payoff had been the pleasure of his audience. The whole experience thus far had been a valuable lesson that he would definitely take to heart.

Adam cheerfully signed the Playbills shoved at him, thanking the fans for their regard. Kurt felt himself smiling as he hovered towards the back, not looking for attention from the fans and enjoying watching his boyfriend getting the attention that he deserved. Several other members of the cast were still there sighing autographs with cheerful, albeit, tired smiles before they departed for the motel to rest.

“Hey, Kurt!” Finn called out, waving at him from the back of the crowd.

Kurt looked up and was met by the loud cheers and whistles from his friends and family. Finn and Puck were carefully nudging their way to the front of the crowd, making way for everyone else. Tina was pushing Artie’s wheelchair and Kurt couldn’t help from blushing at the loud cheers coming from the group.

“So what did you think?” he asked, smiling brightly as he stepped over to his group. Puck reached out to grasp his arm and pull him in so that he could be passed about for hugs and congratulatory pats on the back.

“Well, you might have the wrong plumbing to appeal to me, but I have to say that you looked hot up there in that kilt,” Santana remarked. “I can see why Adam’s always so cheerful.”

Kurt chuckled at her comment, knowing very well that she’d been impressed. She just wasn’t the kind to give genuine compliments.

“You were great,” Rachel insisted, her dark eyes shining happily. “I wasn’t sure what to expect but it was such an amazing show. Everyone was wonderful.”

“So how did it feel, sport?” Burt asked, his pride evident on his face. “Your first professional show?”

“It was incredible,” Kurt insisted. “I don’t think I ever worked harder in my life, but it was such an amazing experience. Everyone here is so talented and worked really hard.”

Carol shoved her Playbill towards him with a pen. “Well, you have to sign this,” she claimed. “This is something that we’ll need for the scrapbook.”

Kurt smiled and signed his name to the cover, feeling a real sense of pride at what he’s accomplished.

Puck was next, pressing his program into Kurt’s hand. “Mine too,” he insisted. “This shit’s going to be worth money someday when you’re a big star.”

Kurt felt his cheeks color at the other boy’s pronouncement. He quickly found everyone in the group demanding his autograph, wanting to make sure that they had the Playbill for his first performance.

An older woman standing nearby pressed her own Playbill in Kurt’s direction. “Excuse me, but would you mind signing my niece’s?” she requested politely.

“Of course,” Kurt said agreeably, accepting the program. He smiled at the girl standing by her aunt’s side.

“She saw your picture in the program and thought you were very cute but is too shy to ask,” the woman confided, earning an outraged squeal from her niece.

“Aunt Lynn!” the pre-teen girl whined in protest. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment as her crush was proclaimed to the entire world.

Kurt just smiled and opened the program to the cast listing. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked kindly, knowing how easily embarrassed kids her age were. The poor girl looked like she wanted to sink right into the ground.

“Kelly,” she answered, her cheeks flushing even darker at being addressed directly by the man she was crushing on.

Kurt wrote a quick personal note to her, thanking her for attending his professional debut. “Here you go,” he said gently, handing her the program. “I hope that you’ll come see the next production. I’ll be in it too.”

“Thank you. We already have our tickets,” she all but whispered, clutching the Playbill to her chest like it was something precious. Kurt watched her retreat with a smile, amused at how she was berating her aunt for embarrassing her.

Burt chuckled at the display. “Your first fan,” he noted proudly. “You handled that really well, sport.”

Adam’s hand reached over to grasp Kurt’s hand and pull him close. “He’s gathered a few of them already,” he informed Kurt’s father playfully. “Strangely, many of them are young girls or older ladies.”

Puck burst out laughing at Adam’s pronouncement. “Shit, that’s all wasted on Hummel here.”

Burt shook his head in bemusement, laughing at the antics of the younger men. He looked up to give Adam a fond smile. “You were pretty amazing,” he complimented. “I can see why they ask you back every season.”

“Thank you so much,” Adam said sincerely, keeping his arm about Kurt.

“Well, I’m sure the two of you are exhausted and starving,” Carole surmised. “There’s a place that we spotted that looks perfect for a post-theater snack.”

Kurt felt his stomach grumble a bit, the light dinner that he’d eaten before the show a distant memory. “That sounds great. I’ve got so much to tell you…”

Finn reached over to pull Kurt away from his boyfriend and gave him a hug. “I’m so proud of you,” he praised sincerely. “You really are doing what you dreamed of. Last summer you were in Lima and look at you now.”

Kurt felt himself blinking back tears at his stepbrother’s regard. Just a year ago he was serving lattes and fearing for his future. Now he was starting to see his aspirations realized. He was on stage and gaining experience and respect in his profession. He couldn’t be happier.

“Well, let’s get moving,” Burt urged, offering his wife his arm. “There’s a piece of pie with my name on it. Come on kids… my treat.”

The group cheered, not going to turn down the chance for food. Adam regained possession of his boyfriend and fell into step with the others, chatting happily with Kurt’s friends and family as if he’d known them all his life.

Kurt felt himself grinning, allowed himself to be pulled along to celebrate the first phase of his summer performances and looking forward to the next.

* * *

“It’s really great of you to put us up here,” Finn remarked as he helped lay out the bedding on the couch. “I mean… you didn’t have to.”

Rachel just gave a soft smile, cocking her head. “It’s not a big deal. With everyone here, it’s like a New Directions slumber party.”

The loft was going to be very crowded for the next few days with so many people staying there. Kurt gave Artie and Tina permission to use his bed during their visit since he wasn’t around, which left the living room for Puck and Finn. Fortunately it would only be for a few days and it would be nice to have a chance to reconnect with everyone while they celebrated Kurt’s debut.

Santana had decided after they got home that even though it was nearly midnight they needed more snacks. She dragged Artie and Tina along to show them where in the neighborhood they could score some late night food. Puck decided to tag along, leaving Finn and Rachel alone together for the first time in months.

“Still, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Finn insisted. “Mom and Burt would have gotten us a hotel room if it was a problem.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him with a confidence that surprised her. “I’ve got dance class tomorrow most of the day and I’m singing at the piano bar in the afternoon so you probably won’t see much of me until dinner.”

Finn offered her a thankful smile. “Well, I thought that Puck and I would do a little sightseeing. Kurt said we should check out the Highline.”

Rachel nodded. “You’ll enjoy that. There are a lot of interesting places over there.”

“It’ll be nice. I didn’t have time to do any real sightseeing the couple of times I was here.” Finn said agreeably. “It’s a shame that Kurt won’t be around, but I know he’s going to be busy tomorrow.”

“He and Adam will be staying in Garrison until the festival ends,” Rachel explained. “I haven’t seen him very much since they started rehearsals. But it’s so wonderful to see him performing like that. He’s so happy.”

Finn nodded agreeably. “We’re really proud of him. He knows what he wants and he’s been working hard for a long time. It’s nice to see him getting what he deserves.”

At one point, Finn would have expected Rachel’s expression to darken at his comment. That she wasn’t getting the acknowledgement and credit being given to another. Instead, to his surprise, she just smiled and nodded in agreement.

“I know,” she answered with a lot more conviction that he would have given her credit for. “I can’t wait to see him in the next show.”

Her smiled brightened at the prospect and Finn could see just how much she had changed since he last saw her. His gaze softened at the memories of what might have been.

“How have you been, Rachel?” he asked, sitting down on his makeshift bed. “Kurt told me about what happened with Funny Girl. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. I know that you’re disappointed.”

She sighed, still bitterly disappointed, but enough time had passed that mention of the show no longer felt like a knife in her gut. “I am, but it’s for the best,” she said with quite assurance.

“I… I just wasn’t ready,” she admitted. “And I probably would have just screwed it up if by some chance I got the role. I needed that reality check.” She allowed herself to smile ruefully. “Sometimes getting knocked down makes you even more determined. And not as likely to take things for granted.”

Finn smiled softly, happy to see the change in his ex. Rachel’s drive was one of the things that he had most admired about her, but he knew better than most how it could blind her. To see her accepting a failure to get something that she had desperately wanted and an understanding that she was rushing into something that she wasn’t prepared to handle was a change that he was pleased to see. Seeing that she had learned to control her drive enough to keep from harming herself and others was gratifying and made him hopeful for her future.

“I’m glad that you can see it that way,” he consoled sincerely. “It’s not easy, but sometimes you’re better off taking that step back so you can regroup and be in a better position the next time.”

Rachel nodded in agreement. “I spent so much time building up playing that one part in my mind that I kind of lost sight of the fact that I’m looking to build a career. I can’t let one set back stop me this early on.”

Finn smiled proudly, pleased to see how far she’d come since he last saw her.

“But what about you?” Rachel asked. “How are you and Puck enjoying New Orleans?”

“It’s been great,” he said agreeably. “We’re doing a lot of good down there and it feels good to be helping people. So we’ve got a few more weeks there before we have to decide what to do next.”

“Any ideas?”

Finn nodded, his fingers picking at the bedding . “Maybe. The guy who’s managing the rebuilding project owns a company in Austin. He liked how we’ve picked up on things even though neither of us had any real experience and he’s offering us a chance to apprentice at his carpenter shop. We already wanted to check out Austin, so this might be a good reason for us to head down there.”

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds like a great idea,” she agreed. “You’ve always liked working with your hands.”

Her encouragement seemed to lighten something in Finn’s eyes. “It wasn’t what I planned to do, but I think it’s worth checking out,” he granted. “I’m not going to lie… the past few months have been really hard. Not knowing what to do with my life, I mean. Especially when I look at you and Kurt. You both knew what you wanted and I felt really stupid in comparison.”

“Finn…”

He looked up at her, offering a reassuring smile. She had always tried to encourage him, even if her advice wasn’t particularly helpful.

“No, it’s okay,” he insisted. “It’s great that you know so clearly what you want to do with your life. But it took me a little while to get it through my head that there’s no shame in not knowing what you want right out of high school. It’s more than okay to take some time to figure yourself out.”

Rachel offered him a knowing smile. “Is that something you learned on your travels?” she asked playfully.

Finn chuckled and shook his head. “No. I was talking to Adam when he was in town for the wedding and he gave me some good advice. I’m just glad that I followed it. Otherwise I’d probably still be stuck in Lima.”

He looked over to her, smiling warmly. “I feel like maybe I’m starting to find myself a little bit. A place for myself that doesn’t hinge on being what someone else needs me to be for them.”

Rachel knew that Finn hadn’t meant his words as a slap against her, but she couldn’t help from feeling a trace of shame over how she’d treated him. Her own ambitions had been paramount and she hadn’t realized at the time how much pressure she had placed on Finn to live up to her needs. She hadn’t considered the harm she’d done to him until she lost him.

She sat down on the couch next to him, wishing that she could take the comfort from his presence that he’d always readily offered. But she didn’t have that right any longer. Especially not since she all but threw her relationship with Brody in his face.

As if he sensed her uncertainty, Finn reached out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, it’s okay,” he promised, trying to ease her worries. “I don’t blame you for me not having my act together. Don’t feel bad because you’ve know what you wanted to be and I didn’t.”

She fell silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts about how their lives had pulled them apart.

“You look like you’re thinking awfully hard,” Finn teased, giving her the smile that always made her insides quiver.

She brushed her hair back, not sure if she should be asking the question that was churning in her mind. “Do you think..?” She paused, trying to get the right words out.

Finn didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for her to get her thoughts in order.

Rachel sighed and decided to just rip off the bandage. “Do you blame me for what happened? That maybe if I wasn’t so focused on myself that we’d still be together?”

Finn’s eyes softened at the wounded tone in her voice. “Rach… I don’t know,” he admitted with a trace of genuine regret. “But I do know that even back in our senior year that we were drifting apart in a lot of ways. Even if everything had worked out the way I planned and I got into Ohio State, we would have been apart. What we both wanted just wasn’t connecting anymore.”

He reached up to gently smooth back her hair. “I don’t blame you for your dreams. Maybe if you did bend a little we would have held out a bit longer, but to be honest I just don’t see how we could have stayed together over the long run. Not without one of us really making the kind of sacrifice that neither of us was able to.”

The young man offered her a comforting smile. “I think that somewhere along the time, we loved the idea of being together more than we actually loved being together. So letting you got to New York was the right thing for both of us, not just you.”

Rachel could fear the tears well in her eyes and blinked them away. She knew that he was right, but it still hurt to put what they’d shared together firmly and finally in the past. “But we can still be friends, can’t we?” she asked. “I don’t think I could stand it if you hated me.”

Finn’s eyes softened at the plaintive tone in her voice. “I don’t hate you, Rachel,” he insisted, reaching out to pull her close. “You might have hurt me, but I could never hate you. I want us to be friends so I can come here to support Kurt. And you. I want to see you achieve everything you ever dreamed of and to be happy. And I’ll find my own dreams and be happy.”

Rachel nodded, her smile teary as she mentally bid farewell to the romantic phase of their relationship. “I’d like that,” she agreed, sniffling. “After Kurt, you’re my best friend.”

“And you’re one of mine. After Kurt,” he chuckled.

Rachel sniffled again, getting her emotions under control and giving her ex a smile. “I’m glad that you’re here,” she insisted, for the first time not feeling real pain at the thought of what they’d shared. “And I know that it means a lot to Kurt. I’m glad you won’t be staying away because of me.”

“Nah… I can handle you,” he swore, his smile teasing and playful. “After all, I managed not to completely lose it during Election Gate.”

“Oh God, I was such a monster then,” she admitted ruefully. “I don’t know how you and Kurt didn’t kill me.”

Finn was saved from having to answer when the loft door slid open and the others poured in, Artie balancing a bulky paper bag on his lap and Puck carrying a pair of six packs. Santana took in the cozy scene and snarked, “Well, isn’t this sweet? I’m so glad that we’re not going to have a murder/suicide to clean up. Hummel would not be pleased.”

Rachel couldn’t help from laughing at Santana’s joke, containing just enough of her typical venom to bite but not sharp enough to draw blood. “No, we’re okay,” she assured the group. “But it was nice to talk.”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of munchies,” Puck promised, stashing the beer in the fridge. “Finn, you mind of Gothica and A-Rex join us tomorrow? I figure they need to see more of the city before they move here.”

“Sure,” Finn answered agreeably. “The more the merrier.”

“Great… the four of you partying it up while Berry and I work,” Santana groused.

Rachel nudged her playfully. “It’s not like we don’t have the city to ourselves all the time,” she admonished.

“We’d love to tag along, Finn. Thanks for inviting us,” Tina said, relieving Artie of his shopping bag and placing containers of ice cream into the freezer. “But seriously… we need to do something with Kurt after his show. Is there any place in Garrison we can go?”

“Kurt mentioned something about an Italian place they go to a lot,” Rachel informed them.

Finn nodded. “That sounds good. I’ll have Mom and Burt check it out to make sure it’ll be open late.”

Artie grinned widely, tearing open a bag of cookies. He took one for himself and then passed the bag around. “This is kind of exciting. The first of us in a professional production.”

“It’s a shame that Mercedes can’t be here” Puck mused, sitting down next to Finn. “She’s always been Kurt’s biggest fan.”

“The festival website will post a few scenes, but I’m going to sneak my phone in,” Rachel said, swallowing a bite of chocolate chip cookie. “I’m small so I can sneak a few shots.”

“Then it looks like we’re set,” Tina said happily.

Rachel nodded, feeling a sense of pleasure that she wouldn’t have expected for anything other than her own opening night. She knew that she had promised to support Kurt, and too often it had been an oath that she hadn’t lived up to. But now all she wanted was to see her best friend standing in the spotlight where he belonged.

Both of them were on the path together, and the only thing that made it better was to have their closest friends at their sides. She looked to Finn, grateful that they were able to move past the hard feelings and would still be there for one another.

Life may not have gone the way she expected, but it was still pretty darned wonderful.

* * *

Burt stood in front of the bathroom mirror, shaving his face while his wife brushed her teeth. They had been married long enough to share space during these normally private moments. While the hotel room was nice, space and time was limited.

“I spoke with the boys,” he informed her, wiping the traces of lather from his face. “We’ll pick them up in an hour and take them out for a good breakfast. I want to feed them up before they have to get to the theater.”

Carole nodded, rinsing her mouth and spitting neatly into the sink. “I’m surprised that you don’t want to sneak in to see the final dress rehearsal,” she teased.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I thought about it,” he admitted. “But I want to be surprised when I see Kurt in the show tomorrow night. And I want him to be able to get through his last rehearsal without him trying to impress me.”

“Then we’ll take them out for dinner afterwards,” Carole proposed. “Knowing Kurt, he won’t have much time to eat during the day.”

“You read my mind,” Burt complimented, giving his wife a quick kiss.

“Well, you get dressed while I put on some makeup. Don’t want to frighten the locals,” Carole teased.

Burt laughed and moved past her, giving her bottom a quick pat and headed into the sleeping area. He checked the clothes hanging neatly in the closet and decided to dress casually in his usual denim and a light cotton shirt. He rather liked that he didn’t look like a politician and could move about rather anonymously, unlike a number of the showboats that he worked with in Washington.

And definitely unlike his son, who had grown into a striking young man who drew attention no matter where he went. He’d stood out in Lima like some kind of exotic tropical flower in a field of daisies and was making his mark in New York just as radically.

He spotted the program from MacBeth that had been tucked into his sport jacket pocket from the night before. Taking it out and carefully smoothing it, he opened the program to the cast page and focused on the entry for his son.

Kurt had told him about his deliberations to pick just the right picture of himself. It needed to represent everything he’d accomplished thus far in his brief career and everything he hoped to. The black and white headshot had been taken by one of his photographer friends at Vogue and he looked both youthful and sophisticated, a juxtaposition that drew attention. It was hard to grasp that this handsome, talented adult was his son. This was his little boy who loved to play dress up and who covered everything he could get his hands on with sparkles. Now he was a grown man at the start of his acting career.

The biography blurb was brief, but cemented just what an important event this show had been in Kurt’s life.

Kurt Eli Hummel (Ensemble) is making his professional theater debut. Born in Ohio, he was a member of a nationally ranked show choir team in high school and moved to New York to attend the prestigious New York Academy of Dramatic Arts. He is grateful for his family and friends for their love and support in helping to start his stage career.

Burt felt his eyes start to water, because this was all now very real to him. He was getting to see his son taking his first professional steps and it was hard to put into words how much that meant to him. He always had the normal parental concerns for his son’s future, wanting him to be successful and happy. He had his concerns, with Kurt choosing such an unstable career. He wasn’t a naive man and while he thought the world about Kurt’s talents, he knew very well that talent might not be enough to give him success. H he dreaded the prospect of having to watch his son’s dreams be broken.

He had seen his son disappointed before, when he came home dejected because he was rejected for a role or solo that he felt he’d deserved. Teaching Kurt perseverance and strength in the face of adversity was all well and good, but no parent wanted to see their child constantly have to shoulder the burden of rejection. There were too many times when he had to watch Kurt putting on a brave face, swallowing his disappointment and finding the strength to push on and try again.

He should have known better. He knew how determined his son was and it should not have come as a surprise that Kurt was finding a place in that uncertain world and acknowledgement of his abilities. Kurt’s talent, not to mention his determination, were formidable that after only a year out of high school he was making a name for himself.

He’d been so deep in thought that Carole’s hand on his shoulder startled him, and he looked up at her in surprise. She just noticed what he was holding and smiled at him.

“It’s really amazing, isn’t it?” she asked softly, her expression loving as she stared down at her husband. “We watch them slowly grow up, take their first steps… see them off to the first day of school and before you know it, they’re out in the world without you.”

Burt huffed, wiping at his eyes. “This is… this is everything I ever hoped for him,” he admitted. “Even when he was a little kid, I knew that he was something special but no one except his mother and I saw it. Now it seems like the world is finally catching on.”

Carole couldn’t help from laughing, running her hand through his short hair lovingly. “This is the fun part of being a parent,” she decided. “Our reward for seeing them through heartbreak and skinned knees. We console them when things don’t work out, but we also get to celebrate when something like this happens.”

She looked down at the program, tracing her finger over Kurt’s picture. “I know that I’m not his mother, but I’m as proud of him as I would be if I was. He’s grown into quite a remarkable young man.”

Burt felt his throat tighten and nodded, giving his wife a smile. “Thank you for being here. That means a lot to us.”

Carole made a shushing sound and kissed him. “Don’t be silly,” she admonished. “There was no way that I’d miss this. I love you and I love Kurt. We might not have started out as a family, but we are one now.”

Burt knew that Finn’s accomplishments might not end up being as flashy as Kurt’s, but he made a mental promise that he would be as attentive and effusive for his stepson as Carole was for Kurt. He would not allow Finn to feel like he was second-best just because he was still searching for his own future.

“Well, let’s get dressed and pick up the boys,” he suggested, giving his wife another kiss. It would be a few days of celebration and he was looking forward to getting started.

* * *

Curtain was scheduled to go up at three in the afternoon, with the theater filled with invited guests. Besides some local press and VIPs, there were children from a local summer arts camp, nursing home residents, student groups and a number of scout troops. Despite the performance technically being called a dress rehearsal, it was more of a preview performance; a full run through with no breaks or interruptions. They’d have to adjust on the fly for mistakes, just as they would in a proper performance. Their director would be watching from the audience, making his notes for corrections or adjustments that he wanted to see.

Kurt sat at his dressing table, giving his hair a very generous application of hairspray. He paused for a second, touching the hair at his temple to judge the effectiveness of the spray, and then gave it another generous spritz. His hair wouldn’t move at all for the duration of the show, styled into a high, proud crest.

He’d gotten quite good at putting on his stage makeup over the past weeks, the foundation smoothing out his complexion and a carefully application of contouring to make the most of his cheekbones and jaw line. A touch of eyeliner and lip color finished the look, giving him a slender, haughty appearance that suited the character well.

Once satisfied with his appearance, it was time to put on his costume. The striking uniform hung on the rack behind his station, ready to transform him into a soldier from another era. He smiled, thinking back to his costuming class where he learned how much the costuming could play into how an actor approached a character, helping them to get into a certain mindset and influenced their portrayal. The black uniform with its crimson sash reminded Kurt of a black widow’s markings, or a coral snake’s coloration. Danger markings that warned of venom and should give a clear signal that he was a viper who would strike at any who might make the mistake of jabbing at him.

The colors marked Don John as a villain, someone who was set apart from the others. But Kurt had been delving deep into his character, finding complexities that might not be readily apparent in the dialogue. Don John certainly did a lot of despicable acts during the course of the show, but he had gotten into his character’s head and found the motivations behind this behaviors. His goal was to translate the vulnerabilities and hurts to the audience that might only be inclined to see the bastard who was jealous of his betters.

He glanced out the corner of his eye and saw Adam with the actors playing the prince and Claudio, looking bright and cheerful in their red jackets. There was nothing to stop him from going to them and being part of the group, but he wanted to keep in John’s headspace. He was the outcast, permanently set apart from the others through nothing more than an accident of birth.

“Hey Kurt.”

He glanced up to see Tracy, looking lovely in a butter yellow gown with an Empire waist that flattered her slender figure. Her auburn hair was piled on her head in neat ringlets and bound with ivory ribbons. He gave her a warm smile. “You look gorgeous,” he complimented sincerely.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” she asked, her brown eyes narrowing in concern. “Are you okay?”

Kurt nodded. “I was just thinking… getting into character a little.”

She nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I did a bit of meditating earlier. Wanted to make sure that I was in the right headspace.”

“I’m just thinking about my approach here,” he explained. “I want to make sure that I’m not reading him wrong.”

“Are you kidding?” Tracy demanded, an amused smile on her face. “You’ve been fantastic this whole time. Now’s not the time to start second guessing yourself.”

“I’m not,” he insisted. “I just don’t want to perform in a way that’s stepping on anyone’s toes.”

Tracy gave him an admonishing stare. “If you were, they would have said something. Kurt, you told me that you had this vision of Don John from the moment you auditioned. Ben angled his whole performance to play off of you.”

That had taken him aback, finding out that such an experienced actor was using Kurt’s performance to give his own form. “You think so?” he couldn’t help from asking.

Tracy just grinned. “I know you really get into your own head when performing, but see if you can pay attention to how Ben is playing off you. It gives some nice nuance.”

“I’ll try to do that,” he said agreeably. He needed to pay more attention to the other players and not focus so completely on his own performance. He owed it to the other players to give them the consideration that he wanted to himself.

“Well, I’ll leave you to finish dressing,” Tracy proclaimed, giving him a warm smile. “I’ll go see if I can bother Craig a little bit.”

Kurt gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll see you on stage,” he promised.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Once left to his own devices, Kurt shrugged off his robe and began to dress, putting on the layers and seeing Don John come to life with each garment that he wore. Once he buttoned up the jacket and tied the sash about his waist, he was ready to take the stage.

But first, he took a moment to join with Adam and the others, letting them pull him into their circle of easy camaraderie. He didn’t want to get a reputation for being standoffish because he was so focused on his work.

“Here he is,” Adam crowed, pulling Kurt into their group. “You look smashing.”

“Wow,” Ben complimented, taking in the full picture. “You are really going to be breaking hearts out there.”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be the heartbreaker here,” David, the actor playing Claudio complained playfully.

“Sorry, but I’m prettier,” Kurt responded lightheartedly. “And people love a bad boy with layers.”

“Well, let me get a picture of us,” Ben insisted, picking up his phone from his dressing table. “Because all this handsomeness needs to be immortalized.”

They quickly feel into position, Kurt at the center of things and giving big smiles. “I’ll want a copy of that,” Kurt insisted. “There’s nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of handsome men in uniform.”

They all laughed heartily, and Adam kept his arm casually around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Ready, love?” he asked, his blue eyes shining with happiness.

Kurt nodded. “Can’t wait.”

“Well, I just wanted you to know that I’m really happy to be doing this with you,” Adam insisted gently. “This may be a job, but having you here… it’s made this a real pleasure for me. Thank you for doing this with me.”

“You can kiss me, but don’t mess up my makeup,” Kurt quipped, leaning close.

Adam smiled and kissed him gently. “We’d better get going,” he urged, holding Kurt in his arms. “The curtain will be going up soon.”

Kurt nodded, letting Adam lead him to where the rest of the cast gathered backstage. They listened intently to his final instructions and words of encouragement. Then it was time for the cast to find their marks and wait for the show to begin.

“Break a leg everyone,” Ben said encouragingly, his bright smile betraying his excitement.

Kurt couldn’t help from grinning happily, but quickly got his game face on. He fell into place behind Adam and the others, his face settling into quiet petulance as he let himself slip into character. When the stage lights came on and the curtain rose, he was ready.

#kadam fic #kadam #kurt hummel #adam crawford #burt hummel #carole hudson #rachel berry #finn hudson #noah puckerman #santana lopez #tina cohen chang #artie abrams

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